


Let Myself Be Taken Just For the Thrill

by justkisa



Series: The Boys Who Kiss and Bite [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5499245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkisa/pseuds/justkisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marek shows Gonzalo something Dries likes then lets Gonzalo give it to him. (Porn, basically, lots of porn).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Myself Be Taken Just For the Thrill

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Elements of D/s. One pre-negotiated power exchange (negotiation does not take place in the story but is discussed). Hints of another non-negotiated/undiscussed power exchange. 
> 
> 2) Still pretending they all speak enough Italian to have fluent discussions.

Gonzalo wasn’t there the first time Marek did it. Dries doesn’t thinks too much about that until the second time Marek does it. Gonzalo’s sharp and startled _what?_ cuts, through Dries’ soft, _oh fuck_. 

Marek stops. Dries whines a little, because now is not a good time for him to stop, not right when things were getting so good. Marek pinches his side. “ _Shh_ ,” he says, quiet, just for Dries, “Just wait,” then, louder, to Gonzalo, “Pipita?” 

Gonzalo doesn’t say anything for a minute. The sheets rustle, though, like he’s moving around, squirming like he always does when he gets uncomfortable. Dries moves a little too, shifting his knees a bit so he’s braced more comfortably, trying, without really trying, to get Marek to start moving again. It’s pointless. Marek will move when Marek’s ready to move. Not before. And, really, Dries likes it that way, but that doesn’t mean he can’t offer a little encouragement. 

“Pipita,” Marek says, sharper this time, like his patience is running out.

“Should,” Gonzalo says slowly, “Ah, should you really, I mean…” 

“He likes it,” Marek says and pushes his fingers the rest of the way inside of Dries. Dries can’t stop the low, wanting sound he makes. The extra stretch from having Marek’s fingers inside him, snug alongside his dick, is too good. “See?” Marek says.

“But—” Gonzalo says.

Marek cuts him off. “Ask him.”

Gonzalo doesn’t. Not right away. The sheets rustle. Then the bed dips and Dries has to shift his hands so he can stay upright. Gonzalo must be moving across the bed, coming closer to Dries. “Dries?” he says, soft and tentative. 

“Yeah?” Dries says. 

Marek squeezes Dries’ hip. “Look at Pipita, Dries.” He starts to move, to fuck Dries again. He fucks him with slow, shallow strokes, his dick never leaving Dries all the way. His fingers are still inside Dries, still stretching him open and filling him up in the best way. “Look at him,” he says, “And tell him what you think about this.” 

It is _unfair_ of Marek to ask Dries to talk while he’s fucking him like this, when the press of his fingers and the slow, slide of his dick in and out of Dries is driving Dries crazy. He clutches at the sheets and digs his fingers into the mattress. Then he turns his head just enough so that he can see Gonzalo.

Gonzalo’s up on his knees, maybe an arm’s length away from Dries. He’s still dressed. When he watches, he never gets undressed. Sometimes he doesn’t even get his dick out, just gets himself off through his pants. Dries figures it’s all part of the fantasy for him or something. Dries doesn’t worry about the details. He just likes knowing that watching him gets Gonzalo off, maybe gets off on it a little, or, maybe, a lot.

Dries looks up at Gonzalo and he’s supposed to be talking, isn’t he? But _fuck_ he can barely think. Gonzalo’s frowning a little. His expression stuck halfway between worried and turned on. Dries smiles because sometimes Gonzalo is so sweet and it kills him a little. He wants to lean up and kiss the worried twist of Gonzalo’s mouth. Gonzalo smiles for a second, like he can’t help but smile back when Dries smiles at him. Then he’s back to looking worried. His eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting the corner of his bottom lip like he does when he’s anxious about something. 

It’s an incongruous look for a guy with his dick hanging out of his pants. Dries smiles a little wider because that’s just like Gonzalo, who’s always a little worried about the things that get him off, like he’s not sure he should want the things he wants. Dries doesn’t get it. He’s always just done the shit that gets him off fuck everything else. He half-wants to lean over and slide his mouth along Gonzalo’s dick. Distract him until he forgets to worry. He loves doing that. Sucking Gonzalo’s dick while Marek fucks him. They do that a lot. But it wouldn’t be fair. Not really. He’s supposed to be talking.

“Pipa,” he says and it comes out raspy and a little breathless, “Pipa. _Pipa_ , hi.” 

And Gonzalo smiles and makes a sound that might almost be a laugh. And that’s good. Dries always likes it better when Gonzalo smiles. “Hi,” he says. He pauses then says, tentative and slow, “Dries. Dries, you’re…”

“M’good,” Dries says, “So good, Pipa, I want it, ‘kay.” 

Gonzalo smiles a little. “Yeah?” 

Dries tries to nod but Marek’s still fucking him and the pleasure sparking through him makes him hazy and uncoordinated and he can’t quite manage it. “ _Mmm_ ,” he says, instead, “Yeah,” his words slurring a little.

Gonzalo glances over Dries towards Marek. “I told you,” Marek says, “He likes it.” Gonzalo nods once. Then he rocks back, like he’s going to sit back on his heels, but Marek says, “Come here. Let me show you,” and Gonzalo freezes. He sways a little and, for a second, Dries thinks he’s going to topple over.

“Marek? What?” Gonzalo says, slow and stuttering. He’s staring wide-eyed at Marek.

“Come here,” Marek says again. And Dries isn’t sure where Marek’s going with this but he’s pretty sure it’s somewhere good. It always is with Marek. 

Gonzalo goes. He doesn’t even hesitate, which surprises Dries a little. Dries watches him until he can’t see him anymore then he drops his head forward and stares down at the rumpled sheets beneath him. 

Marek pulls his fingers out of Dries and rests his fingertips right on the edge of Dries’ hole. Dries whines and rocks back, trying to force Marek’s fingers back inside him. Marek squeezes Dries’ hip. “Hold still,” he says. 

Dries has to force himself still. Has to bite his lower lip and let the pain ground him. Has to focus on his breathing, in and out, in and out. Because Marek’s stopped fucking him too, taken everything he’d been giving him away, just like that. Marek’s dick is still inside him but he’s not moving, not— And Dries feels mindless and desperate and all he wants is to grab for _more_ of what Marek had been giving him, to get it however he can. But he breathes, in and out, in and out, and fists his hands in the sheets and holds _still_. Is still. Because Marek wants him to be. 

Marek rubs his palm across Dries’ hip, drags it up Dries’ spine. “There you go,” he says, low and murmuring, “That’s it.” And the slow, warm drag of his hand along Dries’ skin calms him, settles him. 

“So, uh,” Gonzalo says, “What did, uh…” 

Marek drags his hand back down Dries’ spine and settles it on his hip. “I thought,” Marek says, “you could—“ He pushes his fingers back into Dries. Not all the way. Just his fingertips. And Dries shudders a little but he holds _still_.

“You want me to…” And Gonzalo’s voice shakes but it’s gone low and rough the way it does when he’s really turned on. 

“Yeah,” says Marek and slides his fingertips out of Dries. This time he pulls his fingers away. Doesn’t leave them lingering on Dries’ skin. 

“I,” Gonzalo says, “uh, I don’t know, uh…” 

“You know,” Marek says, “how he is when you fuck him? How desperate he gets for it?” He says it casually like he’s asking Gonzalo to pass him something at the dinner table. 

“Yeah,” Gonzalo says, and it sounds strangled, like it’s being dragged out of him.

“He loves to get fucked, doesn’t he?” 

And Gonzalo doesn’t answer right away but Dries can hear the way he gasps, the way his breathing stutters. “Yeah,” he says, and his voice is a little steadier, “Yeah, he does.” 

“When you fuck him,” Marek says, “Does he ask you for more and more? Beg you for it?” Dries wants to squirm, wants to push himself back and fuck himself on Marek’s dick, to start begging. Marek digs his fingers into Dries’ hip, like he knows just what Dries is thinking. And Dries stays still.

This time Gonzalo’s answer comes right away. “Yeah.” His voice has gone gravelly and low the way Dries has only heard it when Gonzalo’s on the edge of coming.

“And,” Marek says, “When you’ve given him everything you can, when you’re fucking him as hard as you can, does he still ask for more?” 

Gonzalo says something low and bitten off in Spanish then, “Yeah,” so low Dries can just hear him. 

“This,” Marek says, and his tone has turned, left casual behind and slid into slyly beguiling, “Is a way to give him more. A way to give him what he wants. And you like that, don’t you, giving him what he wants?” 

Gonzalo’s answer is slow in coming but it comes. “Yeah,” he says, louder than before, his voice steady. 

“So…” Marek says. 

“Okay,” Gonzalo says, “Okay. I—I want—“ 

There’s a pause then Marek murmurs. “You can touch him, Pipita, go on.” And then Gonzalo’s skimming his hand across Dries’ ass. He runs his fingertips right along the edge of Dries’ hole, right along where Marek’s dick is stretching him open, and Dries shivers. He can’t help it, can’t stop it, he’s too sensitive there. (Marek had once rimmed him until he’d cried. It was one of the best things that’d ever happened to him.) 

Gonzalo does it again and Dries shudders. “Pipa,” he says and his voice shakes, “ _Pipa_ , please.” 

Gonzalo presses down. Just a little. Just enough to hint at what he _could_ do. “Please,” Dries says again, desperate, his voice no steadier than before, “ _Please_.” 

“Do I,” Gonzalo says, soft and hesitant, “Just…”

“Here,” Marek says, letting go of Dries hip. He leans over a bit, jostling Dries in a not so great way in the process. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, patting Dries’ leg. Then he straightens up. “First,” Marek says. Gonzalo takes his hand off Dries then Dries hears the smacking sound of plastic hitting someone’s palm. “This,” Marek says, quiet, for Gonzalo not Dries, “then…” 

There’s the wet, squelching sound of lube being squeezed out of the bottle then Gonzalo’s touching him again. Running his slick fingertips right along where he’d touched Dries before. And Dries is terrible at waiting, really he is, and he’s waited _so_ long. “Pipa,” he says, “C’mon. _Please_.” 

“Just…” Gonzalo says and his voice tips up, makes the word into a question. 

Marek curves his hand back around Dries’ hip and squeezes. “Dries,” he says, “Tell, Pipita what you want him to do.” 

And Dries has to just breathe for a minute because he’s so close to pushing back and taking what he wants, _fuck_ waiting anymore, _fuck_ asking. “Pipa,” he says, “Put your fingers in me, c’mon, put them in me and fuck me with them. I want it, yeah, want you to put ’em in me and fuck me, you and Marek, just, just _fuck_ , Pipa, _please_.” 

Gonzalo makes a shuddering, gasping sound. Then he pushes his fingers into Dries. He goes slowly but steadily and the blunt pressure, the _stretch_ , it makes Dries sigh. Gonzalo’s fingers are thicker than Marek’s and Dries is being stretched in way he’s never been. There’s a stinging spark of pain thrumming alongside the pleasure but that just makes everything even better. And when Gonzalo has his fingers all the way inside Dries, he says, “Is that? Dries…”

Dries has to try twice to answer because the first time he tries nothing comes out but a whining, begging sound. The second time he tries, he manages, “S’good, Pipa, s’fucking good.” 

“So,” Gonzalo says, “I can…” And moves his fingers. He fucks Dries with them, moves them in and out of him in slow and steady strokes. Dries forgets to stay still. He rocks back to meet the next push of Gonzalo’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” he says, “ _Fuck_ , yeah, you can…” 

Marek digs his nails in the skin of Dries’ hip. And Dries waits for him to tell to be still or to stop. He’ll try, for Marek he will, but he’s not sure he can. But Marek doesn’t. “I’m,” he says, his voice strained and sharp, “I’m going to move, Dries, gonna fuck you with Pipita, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Dries says, “Yeah. Yes. _Please_.” And Marek starts to move. And, _fuck_ , he has both of them inside him. That’s perfect in ways he’s never really thought about before. 

It takes them a moment to get it right, to catch each other’s rhythm, but when they get it, the way it feels, it’s— _Fuck_. Dries doesn’t even fucking know. It’s like fireworks exploding under his skin. So intense it skirts the line between pleasure and pain. He’s making noise, can feel it spilling up out of him. He’s whimpering, maybe, moaning, fuck if he really knows. He can’t stop. He’s rocking back, meeting Marek’s every thrust, every push of Gonzalo’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” someone, Gonzalo, says, “Marek, _fuck_.” He says it with something like awe. Like what he’s seeing right now is the best thing he’s ever seen. 

“Yeah,” Marek says, “You see, Pipita, see how much he loves this.”

“Yeah,” Gonzalo says, and the word is like a long, drawn out sigh, “ _God_.”

“And you like it, don’t you, Pipita?” Marek says, and his voice is strained but still steady. Dries doesn’t know how he does it, how he keeps talking and _talking_ , when Dries can hardly think. “Like watching him take it like this.” 

Gonzalo’s answer is slow in coming but it comes. “I,” he says, slow and rough, “Yeah.”

“And you’re thinking,” Marek says, still talking and _talking_ , driving Dries (and, maybe, Gonzalo too), crazy with his words, “about what it’d be like if it was your dick inside him? Aren’t you, Pipita? You’re thinking about how it’d be to have him stretched open around your dick and your fingers. Would you like that, huh, Pipita?” 

Gonzalo’s answer is a rough, unintelligible tangle of what might be words.

Marek doesn’t seem to need an intelligible answer. He just keeps talking. “Dries.” He drags his hand up along Dries’s spine and settles his hand around the nape of Dries’ neck. His hold is light but the warmth of his palm against Dries’ neck makes him feel held down, held in place. “Would you like that? You want Pipita to fuck you? Push his fingers inside you along with his dick?” 

“Yeah,” Dries says because he _does_. He doesn’t think before he answers. Just reacts. His answer spills out of him. His words jumbled and slurred.“ _Fuck_. Yes. Yeah. _Please._.

Marek squeezes Dries’s neck. “Okay,” he says and lets go of Dries. Then he stops moving. 

“Marek? What?” Dries says, desperate and loud enough his throat feels raw when he’s done. Because Marek _can’t_ stop. Not now. Not when Dries is so close to coming he can taste it, can feel it buzzing under his skin. 

“Marek?” Gonzalo says. And he stops too. Pulls his fingers out of Dries. 

Dries whines at the loss. He was _so_ close. _Fuck_. He breathes. In and out. _In and out._ Tries to do it slow but he can’t. His breath comes in fast, harsh pants. 

“Shh,” Marek murmurs, “Easy.” He runs his hand up and down Dries back in slow, steady strokes. 

“Marek?” Dries says again and he tries to keep his voice steady but it wavers, “I was— Was so close.“ _Was_. He isn’t anymore. That feeling, the one curling like something alive at the base of his spine, is sliding away. Leaving him jittery and desperate to get that feeling back. “Marek, please. _Please._ ” 

“I know,” Marek says, “I know. Can you hold on a little longer? For me?”

Dries doesn’t know if he can. “I, uh,” he says, “ _fuck_.”

“Can you try?” Marek says.

Dries can probably do that. Maybe. “I, yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Marek says, “You just try for me. You’ve been so good so far. So good for me. So just try, hmm?” 

“Yeah,” Dries says, and his breathing has slowed down. He even feels a little calmer. “Okay.”

“There you go,” Marek murmurs, “You’re doing so good.” He’s still rubbing his hand up and down Dries’ back. “I want you to try to hold on until Pipita’s fucking you. Once he’s fucking you, you can come whenever you want? Okay?” 

Dries is about to answer, about to say _yes_ , because, Gonzalo fucking him, that sounds amazing, he can wait if that’s what he’s going to get. But Gonzalo beats him to it. “What?” he says, “Marek? You meant, _now_?” 

“Yeah,” Marek says. 

“Oh,” Gonzalo says, “I, uh…” And Dries tenses a little because Gonzalo sounds more tentative than enthusiastic about the idea. 

“If you don’t want to,” Marek says, his tone soft and reassuring, “It’s all right.”

“No,” Gonzalo says, almost before Marek’s done talking, “I mean, yes. _Yes_. I want to. I do.” And Dries relaxes again. 

“All right, then,” Marek says. He stops stroking Dries’ back and rests his hand on Dries’ shoulder. “Dries,” he says, “I’m going to pull out of you now, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Dries says. 

Marek squeezes his shoulder. He’s careful and slow when he pulls out of Dries. He always is. “There,” he says, when he’s done, “You all right?” 

Dries takes a slow, deep breath. He feels achy and empty and a little shaky. But not entirely in a bad way. He takes another breath. “Yeah,” he says, thinks about how Gonzalo’s going fuck him, how good it’ll be, “M’good.” And he is. 

Marek squeezes his shoulder again. “Okay. Good.” He lets go of Dries. “I want you to roll over, get on your back, can you do that?” 

Dries nods. “Yeah.”

Marek pats his shoulder. “Go ahead.” 

It takes Dries a moment. He’s been on his hands and knees for, well, he’s not sure how long, awhile. He feels locked in place. He has to think, has to convince his arms to bend. He manages it, in the end, but it isn’t elegant. He tips over and lands in a messy sprawl across the bed. He’s pretty sure he kicks someone in the process. But he doesn’t really care. 

The sheets are cool and smooth against his back. It feels nice. 

Gonzalo is kneeling on the bed just beyond Dries’ feet. He’s staring at Dries and his expression is totally wrecked. His eyes wide and dark. His mouth is open and wet, his lower lip, red and swollen, like he’s been worrying it with his teeth. He has one hand clenched around the base of his dick, like he’s trying to stop himself from coming right there and then. 

Dries smiles at him. “Hey, Pipa.” 

“Dries, fuck, _Dries_ ,” Gonzalo says, low and rough, like Dries’ name is choking him. 

“Yeah,” Dries says, “Fuck me. S’what you’re gonna do, right, Pipa? Gonna come here and fuck me.” 

He can see Gonzalo’s fingers tighten around his dick. “Yeah,” Gonzalo says, his voice dropping down to into a barely comprehensible rasp. 

“Here,” Marek says and hands Gonzalo something. He’s right there, kneeling right next to Gonzalo, but Dries doesn’t look at him. He’s too enthralled with the way Gonzalo’s looking at him, with all the wrecked, desperate wanting writ across his face. 

Gonzalo fumbles whatever it is Marek hands him. It turns out to be a condom, which Gonzalo tries and fails to open one-handed until Marek huffs, snatches it back, and opens it for him. He slaps it into Gonzalo’s palm and says, “I’m not fucking putting it on for you, Pipita, so can you manage that much?” And Dries giggles. He doesn’t mean to but he’s sex-drunk and stupid with it, and the look Gonzalo has on his face is hilarious. 

“Shut up,” Gonzalo mutters, “Both of you,” and starts rolling the condom onto his dick. 

“Come fuck me,” Dries says, still giggling a little, “And I’ll shut up.” 

“Liar,” Gonzalo and Marek both say, practically in unison. 

“Whatever,” Dries says, wiggling a little, “Both of you like it. Now c’mon, Pipa, fuck me.” 

“Yeah,” Gonzalo says. He’s finished putting on the condom and now he’s slicking his dick up. “Okay,” he says, and shuffles closer until he’s kneeling between Dries’ knees. “So,” he says, smiling down at Dries, “You want me to fuck you? Huh?” He runs his fingers, the ones he’d had in Dries before so they’re still a little slick, along the rim of Dries’ hole. 

Dries shudders and arches up chasing Gonzalo’s touch. “Please,” he says.

“Yeah,” Gonzalo says and pushes two of his fingers into Dries, “Okay.” 

It’s good. Not enough to get him back where he was before. But good. Because Gonzalo’s fucking him with his fingers, slow and steady. He smiles when Dries rocks his hips up to meet the thrust of his fingers. “Pipa,” he says, “ _Pipa_. Fucking come _on_.” 

“Maybe,” Gonzalo says. He pulls his fingers out of Dries then, before Dries can protest, he pushes them back inside him. He uses three fingers this time. “If you say please again.” 

“Please,” Dries says. He doesn’t think about it just pleads. “Please. Please. Plea—” 

Gonzalo laughs a little and cuts him off. “All right. All right.” 

“Wait,” Marek says. And Dries is going to kill him. He won’t even feel bad about it (well, maybe a little). Because _what the fuck?_. 

“Marek,” Dries says. And he really tries to convey just how much he will kill Marek dead if he doesn’t let Gonzalo fuck Dries _right now_ but it just comes out a desperate whine.

Marek, un-daunted by Dries’ frustrated attempt to be angry with him, just says, “Lift up for a moment.” 

And Dries does, because listening to Marek’s second nature right now. Well, at least, he tries. Gonzalo has to take his fingers out of Dries and slide his hands under Dries’ ass and help him out a bit. Marek slips a couple of pillows under Dries’ ass. “There,” he says. He pats Dries’ stomach. 

Gonzalo slides his hands up to Dries’ hips and helps Dries settles himself back down. Then Dries squirms a bit until he finds the right position. “Okay,” he says, “So,” he smiles up at Gonzalo, “Now you’re going to put your dick in me, right?” 

Gonzalo makes a soft, choked sound. He glances towards Marek. “Go on, Pipita, fuck him,” Marek says, “We’ve made him wait long enough.” 

Dries has a lot to say about how amused Marek sounds when he says that last bit but he never says any of it. Because Gonzalo’s pushing his dick inside him. _Finally_. And nothing else really seems to matter. 

Gonzalo pushes all the way into him in one stroke. Then he stops. Marek’s dick is longer but Gonzalo’s dick is thicker and the feeling - the stretch - of having him inside him after Marek is different in all the best ways. “You good?” Gonzalo says softly.

“M’good,” Dries says, and he really, _really_ is, “Now, c’mon,” but he’ll be much better when Gonzalo actually starts fucking him.

Gonzalo smiles a little. “Okay,” he says and starts moving. He fucks Dries with slow, dragging strokes. Dries usually likes to be fucked faster but this is good. Gonzalo knows how to hit all the right spots when he fucks and each stroke sends warm, shivery waves of pleasure through him. “You want me to…” Gonzalo says. He trails his fingers along Dries’ hip, across his stomach. He stops right next to Dries’ dick and rests his fingertips on Dries’ stomach. 

Dries shakes his head. “No. No. S’fine. Wanna come from you fucking me.” 

“You sure,” Gonzalo says and skims his fingertips along the side of Dries’ dick. It’s the first time anyone’s touched his dick since Marek started fucking him. Dries’ whole body jerks and shudders. He almost comes right then and there. 

He bites down hard on his lower lip. “No,” he says, tries to say, but it comes out a choking gasp. “No,” he says again, “Pipa, fuck me, yeah, fuck me and I’ll come. Wanna do it like that.” 

“Okay,” Gonzalo says, “Okay,” and he moves his hand away. 

Dries looks away from him for a moment. Looks for Marek. Because Marek always steadies him. 

Marek’s sitting next to him, his hips next to Dries’ head. He’s touching himself, sliding his hand up and down his dick in slow, lazy strokes. He smiles a little when Dries looks at him. “Hey,” he says softly. He runs his fingertips through Dries’ hair. “You good?” 

“Mmm,” Dries says, “Yeah,” and tries to push up into Marek’s touch. 

Marek repeats the caress. “You’re doing so well, Dries, doing so good.” He rests his hand on Dries’ head. “You want Pipita to use his fingers too? Or you just want him to keep fucking you?” 

“Fingers too,” Dries says, because, _God_ , the way he’d felt before, he wants that feeling again. Wants to drown in that feeling, wants to let it shatter him. 

Marek ruffles his hair. “Okay,” he says. Then he looks away from Dries and over at Gonzalo, “So, Pipita, you want to try it?” he says, “Want to put your fingers inside him? Want to slide them in right next to your dick? See how he likes it?” 

Dries looks back at Gonzalo. He wants to watch him react to Marek’s words. Gonzalo flushes. His rhythm stutters and his next stroke into Dries is hard and out-of-control. He stops moving, his dick buried deep inside Dries. He licks his lips. “Yeah, uh, _fuck_ ,” he stammers, “Yeah, okay.” 

“Hold out your hand,” Marek says and Gonzalo does. Marek gives Dries’ hair a little tug then lets go of him. He squeezes some lube into Gonzalo’s palm. He’s not careful about it and some of it drips onto Dries’ chest. It’s cool and Dries is hot and on-edge and, when it hits his skin, it’s too much, and he shivers and squirms. 

Gonzalo gasps and clamps his free hand down hard on Dries’ hip. “Dries, _Dries_ , fuck, you can’t— You gotta—“ 

Marek drags his fingers through Dries’ hair. He digs his fingernails into Dries’ scalp. “Easy,” he says, “You have to hold still for Pipita. Can you do that?” 

Dries focuses on the darts of pain prickling along his scalp. “I,” he says, “Yeah. Yeah.” 

Marek pets Dries’ head, soothing away the pain. “You’re doing so good. Just hold still. Let Pipita give you what you want.” 

“I’m,” Gonzalo says, “ah, I’m going to…” He brushes his slick fingertips along the rim of Dries’ hole.

Dries can’t fight back his reaction, the way he shudders. And Gonzalo’s breath hitches and he rolls his hips, like he’s trying to do the impossible and get his dick even deeper inside Dries. “Just,” Dries gasps out, “Just do it. C’mon, Pipa, _please_.” 

Gonzalo nods jerkily. “Okay,” he says, “Okay,” and he starts to press his fingers into Dries. He goes impossibly slow. And it’s a good thing. Because, at first, there’s only pressure and something that just skirts the line into pain. 

Dries has never felt this full, this stretched open. “Oh,” he says, “Fuck. _Fuck_.” 

“You,” Gonzalo says, his voice strained and cracking, “Ah, you okay?” 

Dries is— _Fuck_. He doesn’t know. “Uh,” he says, “Just— Just move,” because that’d felt so good before, being so stretched open, so full, when he’d been being fucked. “‘Kay, Pipa, just move.” 

Gonzalo’s worrying his lower lip with his teeth. “You, uh, you sure?” 

Dries lifts his hips, pushes up, forcing Gonzalo’s fingers in a little deeper. And they catch in just the right place and _that’s_ the feeling he’s been chasing. Pleasure tingles warm and shivery along his spine. Sizzles like something alive under his skin. “Yeah,” he says, “Pipa. _Pipa_. Please.” 

Gonzalo nods. And starts to move. Slow and deliberate. And that first spark of pleasure twirls and twists until the pleasure is like a conflagration under Dries’ skin. Hot and all-consuming. The kind of intense that’s almost too much, almost too close to pain. But Dries just wants _more_. So much more. 

Marek slides his hand along Dries’ chest. He says something. But Dries doesn’t catch what. He feels like he’s burning up, like he’s just going to shatter apart. And Gonzalo’s staring down at him like he wants to burn up right alongside him. 

Marek pinches Dries’ nipple and says, “Dries,” and the quick, sting of pain catches Dries’ attention. 

“ _Mmm,_ ,” he says, “Yeah?” 

“You good?” Marek says, “Hmm, is Pipita giving you what you want? Is he fucking you good?” 

“S’good,” Dries says, “So good.” He tries to smile up at Gonzalo. “Pipa. _Pipa_. So good.” 

Gonzalo is panting. Dries can hear it. The way his breath is coming quick and fast. “Dries. Dries,” he gasps, saying Dries name like it’s the only word he knows, “ _Dries_.”

Marek slides his hand up and rests it on Dries’ shoulder. “You look so good like this, Dries. Just taking everything Pipita’s giving you. And you love it, don’t you? You just take it and take it and you love it.” Dries can’t answer. Can’t think. He just lets Marek’s words spill over him. Lets them stoke his pleasure even higher. 

Marek digs his fingertips into Dries’ shoulder, presses them against his collarbone. “Bet,” he says, his voice gone low and rough, “you could take us both, couldn’t you? Let Pipita push his dick inside you, let him fuck you for awhile, loosen you up a little, then take me too. Let both of us fuck you.” 

And _fuck_ Dries’ wants it. Because _both_ of them. _Fuck_. He can’t— “Marek,” he says, “Marek, ah, _Marek_ , oh, _oh_.” He fists his hand in the sheets and his hips jerk up. Gonzalo digs his fingers into his hip and pulls him up. Fucks him faster. Harder. 

Dries reaches up. He fumbles his hand along Gonzalo’s arm. He tries to grab ahold of the fabric of his t-shirt but he can’t. His hand slides down Gonzalo’s arm. Gonzalo’s skin is warm and slick with sweat. Dries’ hand keeps sliding, drags along Gonzalo’s arm and catches at the bent corner of his elbow. Dries can’t get a grip on him. But he tries. He wants— He doesn’t know. _More_. To be closer. 

“Pipa,” he says, “ _Pipa_. Please. _Oh_ , please. _Fuck_. Please.” And he’s losing track of what he’s saying. Words all jumbling. He gets his hand around Gonzalo’s arm, just above his elbow. He digs his nails into his skin. “Pipa. _Pipa_.” 

“Dries,” Gonzalo says, low and broken, “ _Dries_.” He’s so close to Dries now. Bent as close to him as he can. He’s flushed. Sweat’s sliding down his temples. “What,” he says, “Dries? Tell me.” 

“Harder, lil’harder,” Dries gets out, voice slurring, because he’s so _so_ close, “Pipa. C’mon. _Please_.” 

Gonzalo shivers. Dries can feel it under his palm. “ _Dries_.” 

“Please.” 

Gonzalo closes his eyes for a second. Then he opens them and nods. “Yeah,” he says, voice shaking, “Okay.” He takes a slow, shuddering breath. And he pulls out of Dries, just his dick, his fingers are still there, still inside Dries. Dries holds his breath and waits. Gonzalo takes another breath. It’s shuddery and hoarse and the sound of prickles across Dries’ skin. He pushes his dick back inside Dries, just nudges the head of it inside Dries. 

“ _Pipa_ ,” Dries says and it comes out gasping and breathless. And Gonzalo thrusts the rest of the way inside him, heavy and hard. Dries moves with the force of it, his whole body shaking. And it’s perfect. 

Gonzalo does it again. And again. And maybe again. But Dries doesn’t know. Because he comes. And everything shatters apart. 

Everything’s fuzzy for awhile. He can feel Gonzalo on top of him. His dick still hard inside him. Can feel Marek’s hand clenched a little too tightly around his shoulder. Dries blinks. Gonzalo’s staring down at him. He looks a little worried. Dries wants to pet him, to soothe him, to kiss his mouth then kiss the worried, crinkled lines at the corners of his mouth. “Pipa,” he says, “S’okay. S’okay. Tha’was—“ He tries to smile. “Was, _fuck_ , was so good, Pipa.” 

Gonzalo bites his lower lip. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Dries says. He squirms a little. Gonzalo’s still inside him. Just his dick. Not his fingers. Dries tries to roll his hips up. He can’t really. His body won’t listen to him. He feels heavy and slow. “Should’ve kept—” he says, “Didn’t have to stop fucking me.” He tries to move again. It sort of works. He moves enough to draw a low, desperate sound out of Gonzalo. “C’mon,” he says, “Fuck me, Pipa. Wanna make you come.” 

“Dries…” Gonzalo says, “You don’t— I can—“ 

Dries moves again. Squirms until Gonzalo shudders. “Want you to,” he says, “C’mon, Pipa.” 

Gonzalo looks away from him toward Marek. “You heard him,” Marek says softly, “He wants you to.” Dries almost looks at Marek but he doesn’t want to look away from Gonzalo. Not right now. 

Gonzalo looks back at him. “Really?” he says.

Dries smiles. “Yeah,” he says, “C’mon.” 

Gonzalo nods. He starts to move. There’s no rhythm to it. He fucks Dries in quick, unsteady thrusts. The feeling of it’s— Strange. Like a prickling along his skin. Shivery and shuddery. Like pain and pleasure all muddled together so that the feeling’s not one or the other. 

Dries glances over at Marek. He’s touching himself, jerking his hand up and down his dick in quick, rough strokes. “You want…” Dries says. He licks his lips. Does it slow. Makes it an invitation. 

“No,” Marek says. He lets go of Dries’ shoulder and slides his hand up Dries’ neck. He pushes his fingers against Dries’ mouth. “No. S’fine.” 

Dries licks his fingertips. Marek pushes his fingers into Dries’ mouth. Dries sucks on his fingers, scrapes his teeth along Marek’s skin. “ _Dries_ ,” Marek says, half-warning, half-plea. Dries does it again and Marek comes. 

Dries turns away from him, lets his fingers slide out of his mouth. He looks back up at Gonzalo. He’s close. Dries can tell from the twist of his mouth and the loud, shuddering gasps of his breaths. “C’mon,” he says, “Pipa, come for me.” And Gonzalo does. He collapses down onto Dries, like he can’t hold himself up any longer. 

Dries takes the weight of him. Lets him lay there, lets him tuck his face into Dries’ neck and breathe against his skin. He rubs his hand along his back. His t-shirt is damp and limp with sweat but Dries rubs his back until his breathing slows and steadies. 

“Okay,” he says, “Pipa. C’mon.” He pulls at Gonzalo’s t-shirt. “Up,” he says. 

Gonzalo pushes up a little. He smiles down at Dries. Dries smiles back and tilts his chin up, looking for a kiss. Gonzalo obligingly skims his mouth across Dries’. Then he pushes all the way up and carefully pulls out of Dries. 

Dries shivers a little. He’s cold without Gonzalo draped over him. “Hey,” Marek says softly, “Pipita, go get something to clean him up, okay?” That sounds good to Dries. He’s sticky with lube and come. Now that everything’s done it all feels kind of gross. 

Gonzalo nods. “Yeah,” he says, he pats Dries’ knee, “Okay.” The bed shakes a little as he scrambles off. 

“Hey,” Marek says, after Gonzalo’s gone through the door to the bathroom. He rubs his hand over Dries’ hair and Dries turns towards him. “How are you?” 

“Good,” Dries says and nudges Marek’s hand until Marek starts running his fingers through his hair. 

“That’s good,” Marek says, “Did you like what we did?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Dries said, “Was all good.” 

“Yeah?” 

Dries nods. “Yeah.” 

Marek pats his head. “You think you can lift up so I can move the pillows?”

“Can try,” Dries says. He does. And he can lift up but he winces when he does. He’s going to be so sore and achy tomorrow but it was so worth it. 

Marek pulls the pillows out from under him. “There,” he says and Dries settles back down onto the sheets. “You okay?” Marek says softly. He moves closer so his leg is pressed right against Dries’ side. 

Dries turns his face into Marek’s thigh. “S’fine. Just, you know…” 

Marek pets his hair. “Yeah. I know.” 

“Marek,” Dries says. He doesn’t move and his words come out muffled against Marek’s thigh, “Could we, uh, sometime, could we do that, the, uh, thing you said, the one where you and Pipa, you know?” 

Marek doesn’t answer right away. When he does, he says, his words careful and slow, “If you wanted to and if Pipita wanted to, then, yeah, we could try it.” 

Dries nuzzles Marek’s thigh. “‘Kay. Dunno, if I do, but, uh, maybe, you know, sometime.” 

Marek strokes his fingertips along the nape of Dries’ neck. “You just let me know, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Dries says.

“Hey,” Gonzalo says. Dries turns away from Marek and lifts his head a little. Gonzalo is standing by the bed holding a washcloth. 

“Well, Pipita?” Marek says. 

Gonzalo clambers back onto the bed. Marek ruffles Dries’ hair. “Spread your legs, let Pipita clean you up, huh?”

Dries shifts his legs apart and Gonzalo crawls between them. “I’m just,” he says, gesturing with the washcloth, “‘kay?”

Dries nods and smiles at him. “‘Kay.” 

Gonzalo is so gentle and the washcloth is soft and warm but Dries is still glad when he’s done. Once he’s cleaned up to Gonzalo’s satisfaction, Gonzalo tosses the washcloth away. 

“Pipita,” Marek says repressively. 

Gonzalo rolls his eyes. “I’ll get it later.”

“You always say that,” Marek mutters, “And you never do and I end up stepping on it in the middle of the fucking night.” Dries giggles. He can’t stop himself. Marek sounds so aggrieved. Gonzalo smiles and winks at Dries. Marek pokes Dries. “Shut up.”

“Sorry,” Dries says, still giggling, “Just…” 

Marek rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He pats Dries’ chest. “Think you could sit up a little. You should have some water.” 

Dries wrinkles his nose. “Dunno, maybe?” 

Marek pats him again. “We’ll help.” 

Once Dries is propped up against the headboard, Gonzalo on one side and Marek on the other, Marek leans over and grabs a bottle of water of the nightstand. He opens it and hands it to Dries. “Share with Pipita,” he says. Dries and Gonzalo pass the bottle back and forth until it’s empty.

Dries gives Marek back the empty bottle. Marek pats his knee. “Stay here with, Pipita, maybe lie down.” Lying down sounds good to Dries. The headboard is the only thing keeping him upright. His whole body feels heavy and loose. He’s barely keeping his eyes open. Marek leans in and kisses his temple. “I’m going to get more water.” 

“Yeah,” Dries says. He turns so he can brush his mouth along the corner of Marek’s, “‘Kay. Just, uh, just come back, yeah?” 

Marek smiles. “Of course,” he says. He kisses Dries square on the mouth. “Lie down,” he says, “Okay? Before you fall asleep like that.” Then he gets up. 

Dries leans into Gonzalo’s shoulder. “Lie down with me?” 

Gonzalo doesn’t say anything just starts shuffling down the bed. He lets Dries press close and curl around him. Dries rests his head on Gonzalo’s chest and Gonzalo wraps his arm around him. “Hey, Pipa,” Dries says.

“Yeah,” Gonzalo says. His voice is soft and fond. He starts rubbing his hand up and down Dries’ back. It’s nice.

Dries makes a pleased, humming sound and nuzzles his chest. Gonzalo laughs a little, warm and low. Dries almost forgets what he wanted to say. Maybe it would be better just to close his eyes and let the warm, slow strokes of Gonzalo’s hand lull him to sleep. “Dries?” Gonzalo says.

“Would you, um,” Dries says, “Would you want to, uh, do the thing Marek said? You know, uh, him and you both…” 

Gonzalo’s hand stutters to a stop on Dries’ back. He doesn’t answer for a few minutes then he says, “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe.” He pauses. “Would— I mean, would you want that?” 

Dries shrugs. “Dunno,” he says, “I think, maybe, yeah.” 

Gonzalo starts rubbing his back again. “Well,” he says, slow and careful, “Then, yeah, I, uh, I would…” He trails off. 

“If we both want to,” Dries says, “Marek says we—“ 

Gonzalo digs his fingers into Dries’ back and cuts him off. “Well, _if Marek says_ , then I guess we’ll do it, won’t we? Because you like that, doing what he says, don’t you?” His tone is odd, like he meant for it to be teasing, but it’s too sharp, too snappish. 

There’s a lot of things Dries could say to that. Lots of things he maybe _should_ say. Like how he and Marek have had several serious, fully-clothed conversations about this, about what Dries wants from Marek and about what that means. Like how if Dries says _no_ or _stop_ , that’s it, no questions asked (it’s only happened twice). But what he says is, “So do you.” He regrets it as soon as he says it. He never gets involved in Marek and Gonzalo’s shit. Not even when it kind of involves him. That’s for them to work out.

Gonzalo takes a quick, stuttering breath. “I,” he stammers, “What?” 

Dries sighs. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He lifts his head and props his chin on Gonzalo’s chest. “Look,” he says, “Pipa, just forget it, okay? M’just tired and saying stupid shit.“

Gonzalo stares at him for a long moment. “Right,” he says finally, “Okay.” 

Dries rests his head back on Gonzalo’s chest. After a few minutes, Gonzalo starts rubbing his back again. Dries closes his eyes and slips into a sleepy daze, not quite asleep, not quite awake. “Dries,” Gonzalo says, “Do I, I mean…”

Dries isn’t awake enough for this. He turns his face into Gonzalo’s chest. “Pipa, I dunno, you really should just talk to Marek, about, you know, whatever, ‘kay?”

Gonzalo’s quiet for a minute. “Yeah,” he says, “Okay.” 

Dries nuzzles his chest. “M’gonna sleep now, ‘kay. You good?”

“Yeah,” Gonzalo says. He kisses the top of Dries’ head. “You sleep, ‘kay? It’s— M’fine.” Dries isn’t sure he believes him but he’s too tired to get into it right now.

Dries is just slipping off to sleep when Marek comes back. He hears Gonzalo say Marek’s name, feels the rumble of it against his ear. He thinks about opening his eyes. But, really, this is for the two of them to work out. He leaves his eyes closed and falls asleep to the murmuring sound of their voices above his head.


End file.
